Elise sat upright in bed, holding the baby against her shoulder. A vase of white lilies stood on the windowsill. Beside it, a silver balloon read WELCOME, LITTLE ONE.
I knocked softly.
She looked up.
For a moment, I saw fear flash across her face—not guilt. Fear. The instinctive fear of a woman alone with a newborn when an unknown doctor appears at the door.
“Ms. Marlowe?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“My name is Vivian Hayes.”
Her expression changed before she could stop it.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
My name landed in that room like a dropped instrument.
She tightened her hold on the baby.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.
“I’m Grant’s wife,” I said.
Her eyes filled with tears so quickly that I almost hated her less.
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